You Do Like It
by sneauxfo
Summary: Rex has a memory lapse and forgets he was ever in a relationship, so Gatlocke utilizes sex as a mnemonic. Gatlex.


**Sum—** Rex has a memory lapse and forgets he was ever in a relationship, so Gatlocke utilizes sex as a mnemonic. Gatlex.  
**Content—** Established Gatlocke/Rex. Sex.

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They were stumbling upon entering the room and literally fell onto the bed, one of Gatlocke's hands palming him carelessly through his boxers while the other tossed his shirt to the floor. Their teeth clacked against each other and Rex recoiled.

"Geez— Gatlo—"

But his mouth was taken again, and if he could go by the glimpse he got of the man's face, as well as the rumble in his chest, Gatlocke was laughing. The thought was swept away as his assumed lover continued groping him, feeling him out through the dampening, tightening cloth of his underwear with uncanny acquaintance of which touches made his breath stutter.

He was dazed and flushed when they broke for air. Meanwhile, Gatlocke peeled his own shirt off, leering down at the youth as he straddled him.

"Your fault," the ex-con growled, gaze raking and greedy. "We used to go at it daily and you up and force a dry spell, so hush and pay your dues."

So he'd been saying. It had been a week since Rex blinked into consciousness and suddenly his arch nemesis was claiming to be something _not_ quite like an arch nemesis, and it took that week of persistence and coaxing and eerie knowledge of Rex on Gatlocke's part to get them here— where Gatlocke was on him like he owned every inch of him, with the comfort and confidence of someone who actually did. And from the way Rex's body so naturally rolled into Gatlocke's deed, it couldn't have been merely a front.

"Why are you tying me up?" Rex dared to ask, having to turn his face away to peer at the rope stemming from one of the bedposts that the other man was twining around his wrists.

Gatlocke raised an eyebrow, looking amused and informed him, "'Cause you like it." Then, he dipped down to claim more kisses.

Rex's attention was on the immediacy of Gatlocke's tongue in his mouth, and his boxers being tugged off, that he barely noticed the sound of a cap being flicked open. It wasn't until a slick digit was entering his ass that he made the connection and he opened his mouth to protest, or at least to try to get Gatlocke to slow down, but an odd weakness washed over him, and he fell back onto the pillow with startled intake of air.

"You like this, too," Gatlocke explained quite casually as he began stroking what seemed like a button that got Rex off from the inside.

Rex felt his knees falling away from one another; his breaths were devolving into wet huffs as Gatlocke's hand floated in and out between his legs. For a moment, the impact of it all dawned on him— he was naked, on his back, with his hands tied, Gatlocke was finger-fucking his ass, and he _liked_ it.

His dick got harder.

"See?" Gatlocke gloated. "You're getting that precious look on your face. You're such an honest perv."

Throaty noises began leaking out of Rex when the second finger came in. Embarrassed, he bit his lip, turning his face away, but that only turned them into "mmmmmgh" sounds. Pleasure filled him, branched into crawls throughout his body, up and down his limbs. Gatlocke stoked the fire by of licking and mouthing the dips and curves of the muscle and bone along his torso, each kiss edged with a smirk.

Rex began pushing back to ease the fingers in deeper, allow more pressure into the focused area. He inhaled sharply, as the kisses turned into bites— a new layer of ache over the conflict of sensation overwhelming him. And the bites trailed lower, past his navel, down his hip bone, face grazing along the sensitive swell of Rex's stiff and wanting dick….

"That's right," Gatlocke murmured. He licked a trail from the base all the way up the length of Rex's shaft and then dripped into the slit on the head with the barest pressure. Rex whimpered, heaving his hips up, but Gatlocke used his free hand to pin him, while paralyzing the boy with swirling motions of his opposite wrist. He continued, "You love it in here. Don't you remember? Can't you recall _anything_?"

"Don't even— ngh— know my— _hnnnnhh_— name right now," Rex stammered.

Gatlocke cackled with delight, going back to nudge their noses together, dipping lower so that Rex could feel his hot mouth against his ear.

"Next time, I'll show you how you come just from me shoving fingers up this desperate hole." Gatlocke's words were taut and breathy. "How you beg for it, wiggling your arse to cheat your way closer to finish."

As if it wasn't happening already. Rex was making desperate mewling noises— and he tried biting his lip again to keep quiet, to no avail. At the same time, his dick was so hard, he could feel its weight bending towards his stomach, already oozing out so much precum that rivulets were trickling over the side of his hips.

The fingers inside of him began pulling away from each other, curling and straightening, tracing patterns— patterns that gave Rex chills and make him break out in sweat and hot flush, patterns that made him jerk and moan, that made him hold his breath and gasp for it, and crumbled up his pride so that he was a bitten breath away from begging. He cried out as the fingers began driving inside him, and he could hear the wet squelch each time they reached knuckle-deep.

"_Gatlocke_," Rex panted, yanking helplessly at his bindings. "I'm close!"

Gatlocke stole another kiss, biting the Rex's bottom lip as he began alternating between fucking him hard with his fingers and wagging them side-to-side against the swelling point inside the younger man; it won him a staggered cry.

And with that, he dragged his open smile down Rex's torso, taking the boy's dick into his mouth.

Rex came in wailing staccato, jerking his hips up as Gatlocke pursed his lips tight at the sweet spot just below his cock's head, overcome as the climax wrapped him up tight and thrashed him around. He shot his load, thrusting up and groaning mindlessly, until the tension finally began to subside, until he was still and gutted.

Rex's hands were still fisted when Gatlocke bumped their chins, right before prying him open for another kiss and passing a mouthful of his own cum to him.

Rex swallowed before he could register it, and barely managed to kiss back blearily when Gatlocke's tongue found his. It took a few blank moments for him to realize Gatlocke's fingers were still stretching him, albeit gentler now, and a moment more for him to notice he his dick hadn't even softened that much. At the same time, the other cybernetic hand was patting down his hair in a familiar, affectionate gesture that tugged at his chest.

When Gatlocke sat up, he was licking his lips with a dark, weighted gaze that made the younger man's stomach flip. "You're in for it, Rexy. 'M too backed up to last long myself for the initial go, but it's still a while before morning and I've interest to collect."

A third finger began pushing in, and all Rex had energy for was to wince meekly and shut his eyes; his mouth fell open, but he couldn't even muster a sound to express himself. He felt stuffed full, stretched too taut. All of Rex's body ached— his hands were going numb from the ties around his wrists, his cock felt sore by how hard it remained, and his head spun with odd, out-of-context glimpses of a life he didn't recall living, but heat began pooling back to his groin, all the same.

Gatlocke began to move his hand in slow, twirling motions— patterns again— and Rex took them in, writhing.

"Oh, you're awful," the ex-con groaned, and when Rex looked, he realized Gatlocke had his own cock out, jacking himself and synching the rhythm of his hands so that they might as well have been fucking already. "You don't know at all what it's been like. Touching you, but not touching you. Having you, but not _having_ you."

"Harder," Rex mumbled without thinking.

A sound escaped Gatlocke, that seemed like a cross between a purr and a growl. The next thing Rex knew, the fingers were pulling out, and he surprised himself by mourning the loss. He wasn't quite as concerned that he was being turned over onto his stomach until Gatlocke was already nudging his dick in. It got half-way when Rex clenched too tight with a startled gasp.

"Makin' eager all of a sudden," Gatlocke snickered breathlessly. "Least your body remembers, if your mind doesn't."

He shoved the rest of the way in and Rex emitted a sharp yelp as the full length filled him. Gatlocke was biting down on his ear, moaning, hugging him around the waist as he started to thrust.

Rex was saturated in ecstasy. A melting sensation had overtaken his body, coupled by a frantic restlessness building in his chest. He began rolling his hips back to meet Gatlocke's, grinding his crotch into the mattress, desperate for friction, exhales tinted with pieces of his voice.

"See? And you resisted for a _week_. I'm telling you, we did this a _lot_." Gatlocke shifted his weight so that he entered at a different angle, and Rex echoed Gatlocke's noise of appraisal that followed the motion. "I've— _uung_— missed this. I've missed _you_. You drive me up the wall, you know that?"

He was driving steadily into him, and Rex felt his own legs slide farther apart in response. Gatlocke's hands were pressed all over him, running over the ridges and curves of his body, over the kissed worried skin and the bite-bruises along his torso, and Rex arched into them, shuddering. One of the hands rubbed a lazy zig-zag down his stomach, curling around his shaft, and Rex dropped his head down onto the pillow as a tremor ran through his whole body.

"—so hard again," he picked up from Gatlocke's rambling. "Just as pent up as me, after all—"

Rex ended up knocking his head against Gatlocke's as the hand on his dick began stroking him, but that didn't deter the action at all. Rex tried to rush the movements, a restless, leaping feeling building up in his gut. Yet Gatlocke anchored him down with his weight, limited his range of motion with his arms, and laughed when Rex pulled at his bindings, as if trying to pry himself loose, eager for release.

It was agony, being restrained like that as Gatlocke rocked into him at what felt like a merciless, leisurely pace. But then, it turned out to be a short-lived torment— Gatlocke's breaths began harmonizing with Rex's, his thrusts increased in quickness and clumsiness. He clung to Rex, littering teeth marks all along the youth's neck and shoulders.

Gatlocke's other hand was traveling up, sticking fingers into Rex's mouth; and Rex started sucking at them without prompt, a whine pitched high in his throat.

"You always— that's—" Gatlocke interrupted himself with an anguished sound. "That's so _hot_, every time…."

The thrusts abruptly became erratic, and Rex bit down in surprise, but that only seemed to encourage it. He felt a sharp spasm in his legs as the hand on his cock began to swivel, focusing a ring-like movement just below the head, and he bucked uncontrollably into the luscious pressure piled high and burning up inside him. The other hand was dragging away from his mouth, trailing his saliva down his chin, around his neck, mixing it with sweat and smudging it across his chest as it grasped around his rib cage to shove him down onto hard dick.

Gatlocke's tightened voice found him somewhere in the mess— the final, violent shove over the edge: "_Rex_."

And Rex was gone, moaning deliriously into the pillow as a second orgasm tore through him, upheaving thought from any sense of self. He could feel himself spilling out, and Gatlocke's fingers scooping around the jizz and spinning it around his cock, wetting it, stroking him out still as his body went back and forth between locking up and shaking.

Plastered over him, he knew Gatlocke was coming, too. He could tell by the way Gatlocke's noises cut off completely completely, giving way to several deep, lasting, _hurting_ lurches. Gatlocke seized up at the very last, holding taut with a rush of tremors, until Rex could feel the end result filling him up and brimming out.

They swayed into each other, then down onto the bed, until Rex couldn't tell whose limb was whose, besides the sting of his wrists where his arms were bound and had lost feeling overhead. But there was cum smeared all over his groin, and cum leaking from his ass, and Gatlocke was still inside him, and on top of him, and all over him, fused to him by sweat and semen….

If he dreamed, he dreamed he had a boyfriend.

Kind of a crazy one.

_"I got this feeling that if I ever tore you open, your insides would be the prettiest, most lovely I've ever seen."_

Bad-boy type, that everyone disapproved of.

_"Surely, they're only bitter because _two_ fetching studs are off the market now."_

Who had given him more wounds than kisses.

_"Can't have any other baddie putting more marks on you than I!"_

But would kiss him, nonetheless.

_"Rexy…c'mere."_

_Wait…._

Then suddenly, it all flooded back to him.

"…x?"

The sounds arrived first, and they came to him soggy.

"Rex?" Gatlocke was saying, and then his face swam into focus. The corner of his mouth flicked upward, and his expression turned fond. "Ah, were you just sleep-mumbling?"

A cybernetic hand was absent-mindedly thumbing the grooves around one of Rex's wrists that the twine had left behind, and that was when Rex realized he was now untied. So he did pass out for at least a few moments there….

He blinked up at his boyfriend, bewildered and exhausted. "Gat."

There was a split second of shock before a grin split across Gatlocke's face in recognition of the nickname. "Yes. Yes! I take it you're back up to pace?" He pinched Rex's cheek, tugging playfully, excitably.

"Yeah, I think got everything," Rex affirmed, voice coming out sore as he pulled Gatlocke's hand away from his face. "…And, I'm pretty positive we've never tried the bondage thing before."

Gatlocke casually laced their fingers. "But was I right or was I right? Because you _do_ like it." He wore a smug expression.

Rex matched it. "Maybe I need more reminding after all?"

He burst into laughter as Gatlocke fell over him in a fit of chuckles and kisses.

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